


like a secret in your throat

by robokittens



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/pseuds/robokittens
Summary: "She's not your real mother, is she?" Grindelwald asks. He knows the answer: Credence is a Squib, he must be, Grindelwald can almost smell the magic on him. Mary Lou is something, but she's no witch.





	like a secret in your throat

**Author's Note:**

> i found this totally complete in my wip folder so uhhh here it is! from june 2017 lmao

He's young, is one of the first things Grindelwald notices. Horribly, terribly young — he can't be this side of twenty, except maybe he is: maybe he's just starving, thirsty, neglected in body and in spirit. There's a hunger in his eyes, a fire. Grindelwald isn't sure what it means.

He couldn't sate Credence's spiritual hunger if he wanted to, but he _can_ feed him.

"Thank you," Credence says, breathless, around a mouthful of the best hamburger Grindelwald could find. "Thank you, Mr. Graves."

"Of course," Grindelwald says. The simplicity of his gratitude is thrilling, addictive. The boy is beautiful, and Grindelwald had wanted him immediately.

Under the counter, their legs touch. Grindelwald is prone to sprawling. Credence shivers, shakes his way through something as simple as sitting. He keeps looking behind him, out the window of the luncheonette, anxious. Every time their knees brush, Credence pulls back sharply.

Grindelwald wonders what it would be like to kiss Credence's fingertips, the hollows of his wrists. He takes a sip of coffee. He looks at Credence and says, "I need your help."

Credence looks at him. His eyes are wide. His voice is almost a whisper. "I'll do anything."

=

There's something wrong about Mary Lou Barebone. Grindelwald can't quite put a finger on it. Something _off_. Something dark and more dangerous than just the obvious. Something dark to the curve of her lips as she stands on the sidewalk handing out pamphlets. Something light in her eyes that shouldn't be there, not in the deepening dusk.

"Credence," Grindelwald says, and puts a hand on Credence's shoulder. Credence thrills to the touch and pulls away from it all at once. There's a light in his eyes, too, and Grindelwald shivers.

"I haven't —" Credence breaks eye contact, looks down at the stack of papers in his hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Graves," he says.

Grindelwald gently pulls a pamphlet from Credence's hands, folds it up and puts it in his jacket pocket. "Keep looking," he says, and when he looks up Mary Lou is gone.

=

"She's not your real mother, is she?" Grindelwald asks. He knows the answer: Credence is a Squib, he must be, Grindelwald can almost smell the magic on him. Mary Lou is something, but she's no witch.

"Oh," Credence says. He sounds surprised. He lowers his head, looks up at Grindelwald through his lashes. "She's the only mother I've ever known."

Grindelwald thinks, somehow, that this isn't true. He lets it go. He puts a hand on Credence's shoulder and feels him tremble. He pulls him closer, and Credence, impossibly, lets himself be pulled.

"You've tried so very hard," Grindelwald murmurs. "Haven't you?"

Credence doesn't say anything, just makes a sound that's almost a whimper. Grindelwald leans in and presses the barest kiss against Credence's cheek, just shy of his lips. Credence makes that sound again. 

"You'll find the child for me," Grindelwald says. He can feel his own breath reflecting off Credence's cheek. "Won't you?"

Credence nods jerkily and Grindelwald's mouth drags along his jawline.

Grindelwald takes a step back. "Good boy," he says, and Apparates away.

=

There's a fire in Credence's eyes: something hungry, something dark. His kisses are sharp, teeth nipping at Grindelwald's lips. It's like Grindelwald has awakened something in him.

"I'm looking," he says, "I promise," and he lets Grindelwald back him up against the rough brick wall. Lets Grindelwald loosen his tie, peel back his collar and ghost kisses across his clavicles. 

It's been almost two weeks. Grindelwald had hoped Credence would have found something by now, that he himself would have found something by now. "Look harder," he says, and Credence's hair is almost too short for his fingers to find purchase but he manages, tugs Credence's head back and bites down on his neck.

"Oh," Credence breathes. His body shakes. Grindelwald thinks, just for a moment, that Credence is laughing.

=

Credence smiles, when he smiles, with his mouth closed. Grindelwald has never seen him eat anything that Grindelwald hasn't bought for him; he never makes reference to breakfast, to supper, to anything but the gruel they feed the children. He never calls Mary Lou his mother, not directly, but when he speaks of her it's with something close to awe.

There's something wrong about that woman.

"Oh no," Credence says softly. "She takes care of me. I'd be nothing without her."

His eyes cut away from Grindelwald's, but not before Grindelwald sees something dark flash in them.

There's something wrong about Credence, maybe, too.

=

Grindelwald's wand — Graves' wand — is on the nightstand but he doesn't need it, the tips of his fingers pressed to each of the buttons on Credence's waistcoat, on his shirt, on his union suit: a whispered incantation as they fall open. Credence is bare beneath him, or almost bare, still tangled in his clothing.

Grindelwald opens his mouth to say something and shuts it again. He reaches out instead, helps to peel away the layers of fabric. Peels away his own.

"Mr. Graves," Credence says. It would sound like a protest if his cock wasn't jutting out hard from between his legs. 

Grindelwald lets himself down onto the bed next to Credence and Credence curls into him, his cock thick against Grindelwald's stomach, his fingertips tentative against Grindelwald's chest.

Grindelwald pulls him closer and Credence's mouth comes to rest at the juncture of his neck. He nips sharply at the thin skin there, and Grindelwald tips his head back, his eyes falling shut.

Credence doesn't kiss his neck, not after that, not again.

=

It's dark out. The alleyway is dim around them. Credence's skin almost glows in the moonlight, porcelain and pale.

"I'm getting close," Credence says. His words are a promise, and Grindelwald knows he's lying. He smoothes a hand over Credence's hair.

Credence is a weakness. A distraction. This Graves charade — it's all a distraction. But there's something evil in New York City, something dark. Grindelwald can almost taste it. And he wants it, needs it for his own.

"I'm getting close," Credence lies again, desperate now that Grindelwald hasn't replied to him. He reaches out, and Grindelwald takes Credence's hand in both of his own. His moonglow skin is smooth, soft, cold.

The boy is a Squib. Grindelwald knows it. There's something to him, something almost magic, something not quite — 

"Credence," Grindelwald says slowly. "Credence. What are you?"

After a moment, Credence smiles, wider than Grindelwald has ever seen. His teeth are sharp.

"Oh," Credence says. "I'm nothing special."

Credence moves closer. Grindelwald doesn't take a step back, won't take a step back. Credence is still smiling, pointed and feral. He takes another step, and Grindelwald's eyes fall shut. 

He kisses Grindelwald's neck. Lips closed, soft and gentle, and then —


End file.
